Speed Dating
by marisa lee
Summary: 21-year-old Buttercup tries speed dating...with some surprising results. Two-shot.
1. Part 1

**Speed dating.**

**21-year-old Buttercup tries speed dating.**

**This is just a short one-shot, possibly a two-shot, depending on you, the reader! If you guys want more, I'll write more. Details at the end.**

**I don't own The PowerPuff Girls or any affiliated parties.**

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A lot of stupid decisions had been made in Buttercup's lifetime. A _lot_. But this was one she was sure to never forget.

It had been Bubbles' idea. The already-engaged blue PowerPuff felt sorry for her "single forever" maid of honor and had taken pity on her.

"Try this new place out," the blonde had said. "It's called The Brim. I think you'll like it."

So she did. She took her sister's advice, threw on an old pencil skirt and a green blouse with some lime green pumps to match, tossed her long raven hair into a ponytail and off she went.

Of all the stupid decisions she'd made, this was, by far, the stupidest.

_**Bbbbring**_!

The little bell rang, signaling the beginning of the cycle. There were 20 males and 23 females. Buttercup was given a little card with the number 17 written on it in red. She pinned it to her blouse and plopped herself down in the first seat.

She got lucky. Screw conversation, this first guy was smoking hot. Number 12? Yes. Oh, hell yes. She inwardly wondered how good he was in bed. He had light blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes. He was built to perfection, his muscles visible even through that t-shirt he wore. She raised her eyebrows. Five minutes would never be enough for all the things she imagined doing to this man.

"Hi, my name is Marcel," he said very femininely. Buttercup faltered, but kept the smile.

"Buttercup," she responded.

Marcel nodded. "A pleasure, Buttercup. You know, my brother Hans told me about this place. He told me it would be a great place to meet new people, and get my mind off of things that troubled me."

Buttercup nodded. This guy was strange. But she'd bite. "Like what?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "Well. I'm trying to convert..."

"Ah, religions?"

He squirmed. "Well, no," he said ever so slowly. "I'm previously gay."

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The first thing Buttercup noticed about number 9 was his nose. It was long and pointy and it reminded her of a wicked witch somehow.

"I'm Brandon," he said. His voice was much more masculine. Despite the nose, he had a good head of curly, chocolate brown hair and a great smile.

Buttercup smiled back and introduced herself. She figured she would let this guy do the talking, since she wasn't that interested in him to begin with. What a terrible idea.

Brandon started out by sharing the story of how his great great uncle something-or-other had practically _invented_ speed dating. Then he led into how many times he'd been speed dating without any luck, and he disgraced his ancestors for not knowing the proper technique. After that, he explained the exact art of courtship and how it should be played out, as told by his great grandmother, who was the first to discover head cheese. Finally, he wrapped it up by saying how delicious his sister's husband's grand pappy's roast beef sandwiches are, and how Buttercup should really try one, they're famous in Chicago, doesn't she know?

"Well, enough about me, what about you?"

It's about damn time, Buttercup thought. She smirked and sat up, opened her mouth to speak and—

_**Bbbbring**_!

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"What a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. I am Edmund Deschamps the Third. But you can call me Edmund."

Wow, was he for real? Buttercup rolled her eyes and responded sharply, "I'm Buttercup. The _first_. You can call me Buttercup."

The man scrunched up his pig nose and ran a hand through his dirty blonde hair. It was very short and could barely be called a haircut. He wore a white suit and the ugliest purple tie Buttercup had ever seen in her life. This number 2 had dark eyes and a snooty look. Buttercup did not approve.

"I come from a long line of esquires and the like..." Edmund snorted. "How is your family history?"

Buttercup just stared back at him. "I was created in a lab. I'm a superhero."

Edmund scoffed. "Your sense of humour is awfully dry," he chuckled, making a _tsk_-_tsk_ sound with his tongue.

Buttercup raised an eyebrow and eyed his hideous purple tie. Within one second, she had set it on fire with her laser vision. Edmund yelped and the woman next to him splashed a glass of water in his face. Buttercup grinned.

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Do you ever get that feeling, when you see someone you recognize, and you swear you know them from somewhere but you just can't place a name with a face?

That's exactly the way Buttercup felt as number 20 plopped himself down in the chair across from her. She studied his face for a moment, and she swore she knew those features, but who was he?

His jet-black hair was short and naturally, gell-lessly spiked up in the front. He had a silver earring stud in one ear and his dimpled smirk was all too familiar. He had a bit of dark stubble on his face from lack of a shave and his eyes lazily returned her gaze. He had deep, jade green eyes that held hers unfalteringly. He was leaning casually back in his chair on two feet, his arm draped over the side of it like he was lounging on the couch at home.

Whoever he was, he wasn't making any effort at conversation. The awkward silence occupied nearly a full minute of their time before Buttercup finally cleared her throat.

"Uh... I'm Buttercup," she said easily, extending a hand as if to shake. He stared at her hand with laughter in his eyes.

"I know who you are," he said coldly, not returning the gesture. Buttercup lowered her hand, confused and a bit belittled. "I'm actually surprised to see you here. It's been quite some time, Butterbutt." he smirked.

That's when it hit her. She squinted. "Butch?"

He lowered the chair onto all fours. "Good to see you too, Greenie. How've you been?"

Buttercup quickly glanced at the large clock which indicated their time. 3:44 left. She flicked her gaze back to him and half smiled.

"I've been... Alright." she responded. At that, he nodded as if he accepted this answer.

Now that Buttercup knew who the mystery man was, unhelpful thoughts began to creep into her mind. Thoughts of him. And her. Together. Alone. She half shuddered pleasurably, half winced in disgust at the thoughts. They were not unlike those which she'd thought about the first man. In fact, they were more detailed.

"You look good," he said, surprising her. His rough hands lay folded on the table. She imagined those hands, getting tangled in her hair, running down her body, feeling her, touching her.

Why in the world was she having these thoughts about _him_? She was a grown woman, and having been unluckily exposed to the world of sex by a pushy boyfriend back in 11th grade, she knew what two bodies were capable of doing. And she couldn't contain herself there at the table. She had to get away from there. Clock again. 2:06. Damn.

She tried to play it cool. "Thanks," she replied, pushing her semi-long bangs behind her ear habitually. "You do, too."

He smiled at her and leaned forward, whispering, "No, I mean... You look _really_ good."

She felt herself blushing, but she didn't care. She could feel his hot breath on her skin, his deep voice cutting all other sounds out of her mind. 1:43.

A deep breath. A tentative lean in. A reply: "You too."

Butch leaned back in his chair again. He threw his arm around the back and lifted the first two legs up again. She leaned back, too. 1:37.

"So, how're your sisters?" he made eye contact with her. His eyes pierced hers and did not look away.

"They're fine," Buttercup replied. She stared him right back in the eyes. His gaze was lazy, but intense. Hers was desperate and equally, if not more, intense. "Blossom's in Japan on international study."

Butch nodded, not breaking eye contact. "Good for her."

"Yeah."

0:56.

For most of the remaining time, they stared at each other wordlessly. The dull noise of the room became almost silent, drowned out by the obvious sexual tension between the two. Buttercup was itching to reach across the table and run her slender fingers through his luscious looking hair. She longed to let her mouth meet his in unending matrimony.

0:05.

0:04.

0:03.

0:02.

0:01.

_**Bbbbring**_!

Neither of them budged. A short, stout, bearded man was trying to cut in where Butch was seated, but the raven-haired man didn't move a muscle. He still kept his eyes locked with Buttercup's.

"Hey, buddy, the bell rang!" the short man shouted in Butch's ear. "It's time to switch now! Give other guys a turn!"

Butch finally broke the staring contest and glanced up at the short man, who was quite red in the face. He shrugged. "Yeah, I don't think I want to." he stood up, patted the man on the shoulder, and looked back at Buttercup.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asked her meaningfully, nodding his head towards the door.

Buttercup hadn't looked away for a second; hadn't even blinked.

"Yes, oh god yes." she moaned. She stood up, following Butch out of that horrid place, leaving the short man speechless and flabbergasted.

Once outside, Buttercup couldn't resist him any longer. She ran her hands down his chest, feeling rock-hard abs beneath his shirt. She gripped the fabric of his shirt in a tight grasp. He smirked at her and leaned in to finally 'seal the deal' of their stand, when—

"Oh, get a room!" some guy walking by shouted at them. Butch aimed a laser straight for his belt, which disintegrated, causing his pants to fall to his ankles. He scuttled away, embarrassed, as Butch met Buttercup's pleading eyes once more. Damn, she was really begging for it. He lifted her off the ground, a streak of dark green light trailing behind him, taking off with her in his arms.

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**That is all. T-T I wanted to write more, but I didn't know if you people would want me to. Let me know if you want it to continue ;D because trust me. I will continue it. But the rating will have to be raised to M... Just to forewarn. I hope you enjoyed it ^.^ please review and let me know what you think!**


	2. Part 2

**Okay, you guys asked for it, so here you go! Part two ^_^ I hope you like it, because I went through a lot of effort to make it appropriate for the site. xP I had to change the rating to M, for goodness' sakes! You perverts... Just kidding... I liked writing it, so I guess I'm just as bad as you. My disclaimer goes like this:**

**Warning: Parental permission is _highly_ recommended before reading this story. Although I don't think anyone is actually going to do that so what am I even wasting my time for? Regardless, this chapter is basically word porn. You understand that I couldn't be too detailed or have it go very far because of the site rules... I apologize for that in advance. I just don't think I could deal with being kicked off the site. That would just suck... So read with caution, and fap as you please. c: (jk).**

**I do not own the PowerPuff Girls or any affiliated parties. Review, of course! :3 xoxo, m.l. *;**

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The trip was short and speedy. As he flew, Butch couldn't resist glancing downwards every few seconds to meet Buttercup's frantic, wide eyes again. She never once looked away, never once spoke a single word to him about where they were going, or when they'd be back. Neither cared. The only thing the greens were concerned about was controlling their lust until after they were alone. And at least stable. They couldn't make very much use of themselves while floating above Townsville, could they?

At long last, Butch slowed to a stop in front of a small white house on the corner of a block unfamiliar to Buttercup. He carried her over the threshold and set her down on the floor inside.

"It's Brick's place," he explained in response to her questioning look. "He's out of town for the weekend with some of his friends. He won't be back 'til Monday." He shut the door behind him and pressed his back up against it. He stared meaningfully at Buttercup, who raised her eyebrows in return.

She took a step forward, cautious now, yet still extremely longing. Another step. Another. They were close enough to touch now. And he didn't hesitate to do that. He reached out and took hold of her wrists, pulling her in closer and sealing off the distance between them. The look in his eyes was that of pure laughter and lust as he leaned in to gently kiss her, full on the lips, testing her, trying her.

Barely a second passed and the two were completely latched onto each other. It was like a grand release of something that had been built up since they'd first laid eyes on each other. Buttercup's hands laced themselves into Butch's soft hair, and his hands found her slim waist. He felt her now, their lips moving in synch with one another. With his hands he discovered not only Buttercup's perfectly slim waist, but her firm stomach, her strong back, and her tight bottom. His hands felt her all over, his mind putting together her image with the way she felt, like smooth, gentle silk, and the way she tasted, like mint chocolate ice cream and cherries. Why cherries, he could not say for certain.

Buttercup let him familiarize himself with her features as she pulled her hands down from his hair to his strong, hard chest. He had abs like steel and hips like solid rock. His arms were large and muscular, too. His whole body was just perfect to her, even more perfect than her boyfriend in 11th grade. Although that was her junior year in high school. Men were much more mature now. Or so she thought. Regardless of Butch's maturity level, she returned his burning passion full throttle, their lips permanently secured together with Butch backed up against the front door of Brick's house.

After a few moments of this, Butch lifted Buttercup up by the waist and she wrapped her legs around him, kicking off her shoes as she did so but still not breaking the kiss. Her skirt was pushed up to her hips now, revealing her light green-with-black-lace panties underneath. Butch didn't touch her there. Not yet. He was savoring the moment, carrying her into the bedroom where he set her down carefully but firmly on the bed.

Their lips broke contact if only for a second, providing Buttercup the opportunity to pull Butch's shirt over his head in one swift movement. His chest was full, tan and solid, and she put her hands on it, meeting his lips again. He pushed her backwards so she was lying down on her back, climbing up and over her on his knees. His hands supported him in a different area, one easily caressing her smooth thigh, the other pressed against her face, trying to deepen the already lust-filled kiss to extremity. He pulled her small pencil skirt down past her knees, over her ankles and discarded it onto the floor. He ran his hand up, past her thighs, under her blouse and over her stomach, resting it there at the small of her back, testing her again; seeing how she would react. He knew he had to take it slow and cautious and he did so with great care, but also with lust.

Buttercup could feel his warm hand resting on her back, but why was he stopping? Why didn't he keep up the pace? She signaled to him a bit by reaching up and unbuckling the belt of his jeans.

With this, he pulled his mouth away from hers briefly and caught her hands in his own, stopping her. She met his eyes questioningly once more, begging him to go on with just the look on her face.

"Are you sure about this, Buttercup?" he asked her in a whisper, both of them panting from the adrenaline rush.

Buttercup nodded slowly. "I'm a big girl now," she whispered back. "I can make decisions for myself."

"But is this what you want?" he asked seriously, not letting go of her hands.

She closed her eyes and sat up, bringing her face close to his again. "I want _you_." she hissed seductively in his ear.

Although he subconsciously wanted to, Butch couldn't physically argue with that response. He took hold of her blouse and it was over her head in an instant. He took a moment to admire her features, actually there, actually in front of him there in nothing but her underwear, not at all a dream or fantasy. Any other girl he'd ever taken to bed (and there had been quite a few, but she needn't know about them) could not compete with the glory of Buttercup Utonium. She was immortal. Heavenly. Like an angel. He almost refused to take her like this, in this fashion, this way. But once he'd started, once he'd seen her like this... There was _no_ going back.

He pressed his lips to hers once more, leading her slowly but surely to the head of the bed. She arched her back slightly as he once again removed his lips from hers, but trailing them down her neck, her chest, her stomach; leaving hot kisses in each place as he went. Buttercup shuddered inwardly as he reached her inner thighs. She kneaded his head as he kissed her there, not at all in an aggressive manner, but softly and gently.

He brought the kisses back up to her lips, and she reached down and completely removed his jeans. He laughed into Buttercup's lips, her eagerness amusing him greatly. But he did as she suggested and looked her in the eyes as he made to undo the clasp on her bra. Those things were impossible to get off. He hated them. In Butch's opinion, women should just nix the whole bra factor and go around without them. It would be so much easier. For him, anyways.

Finally, the hooks came undone, and up over her head the useless article of clothing went. He stared. How could he help it? She was just too flawless. Her full breasts stared back at him. This was not at all, in any way, shape or form, how he'd imagined Buttercup. Yes, he had imagined her.

But Buttercup didn't want him staring. Unless he was going to stare with his hands. Or his tongue. She leaned forward and kissed him, then slowly lay backwards, leading him back down to her. She felt his hands warm on her breasts, felt his hot breath meet hers. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to get his stupid boxers off. Surprisingly, he allowed her to do it, and she pulled them off with great ease. Now it was her turn to stare. He laughed at the expression on her face.

He was unlike anything she had ever seen before. A god. That's it. He was a god. He had to be. There was no way any mortal was _that_ perfect. Just no _way_.

He leaned in again, placing one hand on her breast and the other underneath her back, edging in towards her bottom. She arched her back and sighed into his lips as he made to remove her panties one-handedly. As soon as he got them past her knees, he froze.

There was a sound. It was faint, but apparent. A rustling sound. Butch and Buttercup locked eyes immediately, their lust and adrenaline immediately replaced with fear and worry. Butch, without thinking, picked Buttercup up and placed her under the sheets on the bed. He located his jeans and pulled them on without the boxers, right before the door to the bedroom swung open.

"God dammit, Butch, get your own goddamn house to fuck in!" Brick cried after taking one look at the scene. Butch's face turned deep red, almost purple, and Buttercup couldn't help but laugh. Brick turned away out of respect for her and shook his head.

"Dude, you weren't supposed to be back until Monday..." Butch spluttered helplessly.

"Yeah, well, I decided to take an early flight back... and _this_ is what I see when I get back?" He gestured to Butch, standing there shirtless in his jeans. "Some brother you are."

Butch grinned. "Hey, bros let bros use their houses for-"

Brick cut him off. "Fuck you, man." He left the room, calling back, "You got five and a half _seconds_ to get the _fuck_ out of my house."

Butch turned to Buttercup. She was sitting up in the bed, covering herself with the sheet. She smiled at him. He sighed.

"Sorry about that, I-"

But Buttercup cut him off, too. She held his face in her hands and pulled him towards her. She kissed him deeply, passionately, but it was soft and gentle. When at last she pulled away, she looked up at him with fire in her green eyes.

"We're continuing this soon, right?" he asked her eagerly, putting an arm around her waist. She laughed again and brought her mouth close to his ear.

"But next time, we do it at _my_ place."


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